Looking a Gift Horse in the Mouth
by whynotitsfun
Summary: LJ Revolution Redux Challenge! Le Prompt: eventual Bass/Charlie, any other relationships you want after Aaron saves the nanites, no one on their team (miles, monroe, rachel, charlie, aaron, gene, connor, priscilla) can die because the nanites keep healing their wounds. - FYI: MCD, but not what it seems. Tends to deal w/ emotional strain of dying but not. Rated M for Language


**A/N: Also posted on AO3, ****This was an easy one to start but a difficult one to end. I could go so far with this, and may pick it up again later and add a few chapters. But, for the time being, It's a rather long one shot.**

When the attack hit outside of Willoughby they were all caught off guard. Truman had finally gotten his act together and asked for reinforcements. He had realized that the only way to deal with the dual threats of Miles Matheson and Sebastian Monroe was a full onslaught. Their only chance of survival now was to escape and scatter. Monroe, Charlie and Connor were pinned down. He'd almost had them out when another squad of those so-called super soldiers had arrived.

As far as Monroe knew, Miles and the others had already made it out of the compound and we're hiding in the woods that surrounded it. It had crossed his mind more than once since the attack began that he'd told Miles that the old power station was not a good safe-house. But, lately it seemed that if he had an opinion about something Miles went out of his way to do the exact opposite.

Monroe peered around the steel door to the old server room they were hiding in. He counted at least ten soldiers between them and freedom. Ten heavily armed men. They were almost out of ammo. Sure, he was good with a sword, but you didn't bring a sword to a gunfight. He'd be dead before he reached his first opponent. He pulled himself back into the room, carefully pulling the door closed again. It was only a matter of time before the Patriots found them.

He leaned up against the wall, closing his eyes as he mentally went through their options. The server room was in the corner of an L shaped hallway. The emergency exit was only fifty yards away at the end of the shorter hallway. But there were several rooms with open doorways to the left of and across from their hiding spot. The patriots had spread out and were currently in those rooms and in the longer hallway.

Charlie and Connor stood a few feet away from him, watching him curiously. In other circumstances, Charlie would have found Monroe's process amusing. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to be having an entire conversation with himself in his head. She silently reminded herself to poke fun at him for it later - if they survived. His eyes opened and he pushed away from the wall, indicating he'd made a decision. He double checked the clip in his handgun. Five rounds - ten patriots. Charlie and Connor had a little more between them, but they would need it once outside. "God I hate math," he muttered under his breath. He finally turned to address them. "Well, there's only one way out of here, and we've got to get past them. We can't shoot our way out."

Charlie furrowed her brows. They knew all of this already. So, what was he getting at? "So what's your brilliant plan, General?"

Monroe winced at the title. He hated being reminded, especially by her. "Simple. We need a distraction. That's where I come in."

Connor and Charlie shook their heads in unison. "That's stupid," Connor argued. You'll be killed."

Monroe placed a hand in Connors shoulder. "Yeah, I figured that. But, it's the only chance you two have of getting out of here alive."

Charlie tried to keep her voice even. "No, there has to be another way."

Monroe could hear the emotion in her voice, despite her effort to conceal it. He refused to look at her now. "We're out of options here. When the time comes, you both run like hell and don't look back, you got it? I mean it."

He gave Connor a quick hug. "I'm sorry for not being there, for your mom." Connor simply nodded. Turning to Charlie, he stared into her eyes for what seemed like an eternity. "Charlie, I'm just sorry." He hoped that she'd understand what he meant by that. "Take care of each other?"

Monroe turned to leave, but stopped short of the doorway and re-holstered his gun. For a second Charlie thought he'd changed his mind or come up with a new plan. Suddenly he whipped back around. "Fuck it," he said as he took two steps, closing the distance between them. Before should could react he reached out and cupped her face with both hands and pressed his lips firmly to hers.

She was shocked for a second but before she knew it she was kissing him back. For just a few moments they clung to each other, forgetting just for that time about Connor, the Patriots - everything that stood between them. He broke off the kiss as suddenly as it began. He stepped back toward the door, their eyes locked - his eyes determined, hers brimming. He held her gaze a second longer, willing her to understand things he couldn't possibly say. He then drew his weapon once more and turned to open the door. "Get ready to move," he said as he disappeared.

As soon as the first shot rang out, Charlie and Connor sprang into action, running towards the exit with everything they had. Monroe had managed to take out the two patriots closest to them. As they concentrated their fire on the formal general - their primary target, an opening was left for Charlie and Connor to escape. Right before Charlie went through the door she turned back and saw Monroe. He stepped out from behind the ruined machinery that he'd been using for cover. He fired his last three rounds, taking down one more soldier and wounding another. The clip was empty; he just dropped his gun and drew his sword. The force of the bullets jerked his body before he fell to his knees. The next wave forced his body backwards.

As he lay there bleeding and dying a certain peace came over Monroe. After everything he'd done, just maybe this last act made up for some of it. Finally he did something with meaning; finally got something right after all the mistakes. After so many years of blood and death, it was over. He felt the life leech out of him, and in his mind he pictured two clear blue eyes. All of this happened in a matter of seconds, and then he was gone.

When the fighting was over, Truman stepped into the corridor and looked down at his body. A smile came to his face when he confirmed for himself who they'd managed to kill. There were no signs of any of the Mathesons, but he was sure they'd been here. He'd ordered the woods scoured in search of them. "Let him rot here," he said with a sneer as he turned to walk away.

Charlie and Connor made it into the safety of the woods. Once they realized they weren't being followed, Charlie allowed the floodgates to open and her tears now flowed heavily as they ran. She almost ran face first into Miles. "Charlie! You made it."

She nodded sadly as she looked around. Everyone else had made it out. Somehow, it seemed so unfair, wrong almost. Rachel, Gene, Aaron and Priscilla stood huddled together a few feet away. "Where's Monroe?" Miles asked, realizing now that someone was missing.

Charlie just shook her head. "Charlie, what happened? Where's Bass?" He asked again.

Seeing her distress, Rachel walked over and put an arm around her daughter as Charlie took a few deep breaths. "We were right behind you when another squad showed up. We got bogged down. He distracted them so we could get out." Charlie gave Rachel a cold glare as she emphasized what Monroe had done. "He sacrificed himself to save us."

Miles ran a hand through his hair, felling a sense of panic rise within him. Sure, Monroe was a bastard, but they'd been friends for a span of thirty-five years before everything fell apart. He tried to deny the possibility. "Maybe he got out. He's good. Maybe he..."

Miles trailed off as Charlie's sobs began anew. "I saw him fall. He's gone.

Miles' eyes now filled with tears. Before, he'd had a half a bottle of whiskey in him to dull his emotions before the bell in Willoughby rang to announce Bass' death. This time, his sobriety forced him to confront the overflow of emotions that hit him. This was his brother, for good or bad. And he was really gone this time. There had still been so many things between them left unresolved. Rachel put her arms around him. And Miles, always so stoic buried his face in her neck, struggling with himself to not fall apart.

Regaining his composure, he pulled away from Rachel and gestured for their party to follow. "Let's go. We need to find a place to hide. Truman will have every patriot in Texas looking for us." They walked in silence for a while. Any building in the area would be too obvious to use now. With Tom Neville helping the Patriots, they'd know where to look. They found the remnants of a narrow creek bed, long since dried that was well concealed by an overgrown brier-patch. It was as good of a place to lay low as any and they only would need it until nightfall. They would use the cover of darkness to escape to the north, abandoning Willoughby for lost. Ignoring the sting of the thorns that snagged their clothes and skin, they crawled into the cramped space to wait.

They had been hiding for a few hours when suddenly Aaron broke the silence. "We have to go back."

Rachel turned to look at him. "Why? Just because we don't hear them, doesn't mean they aren't still around. They are probably looking for us."

Aaron shook his head. "No, they've moved on, away from here."

Miles gave Aaron a strange look. He sensed that more X-files shit was on the horizon. "How do you know?"

Aaron was starting to get agitated. "Because they told me, the nano." He was rewarded by a roll of the eyes from Miles.

Priscilla reached out and held Aarons hands. "Aaron, what did they say? What did they tell you to do?" Miles and Rachel may have their doubts about the nanotech, but she had been contacted by them enough to not question it.

Aaron turned to miles. "They keep saying one thing over and over again - go bury your friend."

After arguing about it for several more minutes Miles reluctantly agreed. Their party cautiously made their way back to the compound. Aaron had been right. There wasn't a sign of the patriots. Charlie led them to where she saw Monroe fall. His body was sprawled on his back. His shirt was covered in blood, a dozen holes evident in the cloth. His dead eyes stared at the ceiling. Charlie stood there looking at those dead blue eyes, unable to turn away. Rachel knelt down and gently swiped her hand over his eyes, closing the lids.

Despite her hatred for this man, even Rachel was affected. She tried not to notice the streaks at the corners of his eyes, leaving clean tracks in the dirt and grime of battle, evidence of tears having been shed as he died. Try as she might, she could not force herself to feel satisfied at his passing. She tried to conjure up an image of Danny in her mind, but it kept slipping away, being replaced by images of the Bass she had known so well before the blackout - easygoing, handsome and always joking around about something.

Gene helped miles lift Monroe's body. Carefully they carried him to the edge of the woods before they headed back to the compound. Breaking into the grounds keeper's shed, Miles found a few rusty shovels. With grim determination, he stalked back to where Aaron waited to help him dig a grave. While they dug the others went back and gathered all of the gear they'd left in their haste to escape. Sadly, Connor carried his father's pack, setting it down next to his body once he'd rejoined the others.

He sat several feet away, face expressionless as he watched the grave slowly take shape. He knew he should probably help, but he couldn't force himself to move. His feelings were conflicted. Here they would bury his only remaining family. But at the same time, they were burying the main cause for his other losses. It had been Monroe's fault he'd been sent to Mexico; his fault his mother was dead. Hell, if he hadn't been sent to Puesta del Sol, his aunt and uncle would have likely fled the town when Nunez set up shop there. They may have missed the plague entirely.

Gene approached and sat down next to Connor now. He felt he should say something. After all, the young man had just lost his father. "I'm sorry. I know this must be hard."

Connor cocked his head to one side. "He promised me a Republic. And now he's gotten himself killed - for her." He watched Charlie as she bent over his father's body. The last thing he'd done was kiss her. Connor couldn't quite shake the feeling that if Charlie hadn't been there, Monroe would have likely come up with a different plan. In one fell swoop his dad had stolen his girl and abandoned him. (Not that Charlie was really his. In fact she'd broken off their fling as soon as she'd found out about their plans for after the war with the Patriots.) "I never should have left Mexico. He ruined my life there and now I've got nothing."

Gene was shocked at first but chalked it up to grief. He left Connor and went to join Priscilla and Rachel as they went through their packs. It took over an hour to finish digging the grave. Aaron and miles finished the last foot while Charlie knelt down next to the body. She used what water was left in her canteen and her spare shirt to wash the blood and grime off his face. It wasn't much, but it was all she could do for him. As she waited for them to finish digging she absently touched her lips. It was only a few hours ago that he'd kissed her. She recalled the look on his face after he'd pulled away. She'd never realized he'd felt anything for her. As Miles and Aaron climbed out of the hole they'd dug, Charlie wondered what may have been different had she known.

They all stood now and looked at Monroe one last time. Despite everything he'd done in the past, this last sacrifice moved them. Miles and Aaron went to pick him up so he could be laid to rest. Suddenly, Monroe's eyes shot open.

One minute he had felt himself let go, and the next minute (to him anyway) he felt his heart pound in his chest, the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears. He took a gasping breath. What the hell is happening to me? He screamed in his mind as he looked around. Everyone was standing above him, their expressions a mixture of sorrow and terror.

Adrenaline pumping, he scrambled to sit up. Miles bent to help him. He was panting, trying to catch his breath. "What the hell just happened to me?"

Aaron stepped forward into his field of vision. "It was the nano. They brought you back."

Everyone turned to look at Aaron now. "What do you mean, brought me back?" Monroe was confused. He'd felt the bullets hit; the pain was so fresh in his mind. The drifting as his body shut down. Still panicked, he lifted his shirt. The wounds were gone, like they were never there. In his lap were a handful of bullets, the ones that hadn't gone straight through him. They blood on them was still tacky. It was like they'd been pushed out. He held one up and just stared at it, dazed.

Rachel walked over to Aaron. "I don't understand. The nano brought you back, but why Monroe? Why now?"

Aaron looked off to the side, looking at something only he could see. "The nano said it's a gift, for fixing the code. And because it needs us, all of us."

Miles furrowed his brow in confusion. "Needs us for what?"

Aaron looked at his invisible "friend" again, listening. "It wants us to go to Austin."

Monroe slowly got to his feet. "The nano brought me back so we could take a road trip?" He still needed to process everything. He felt like he was under water. Everything was cloudy. "I'm not going anywhere, I..." He was cut off by a loud clash of lightening above the forest canopy - despite the fact that the day had been cloudless.

"Um, the nano doesn't like to be ignored. I've learned the hard way that if it wants something, you'd better just do it." As if to emphasize Aaron's words, the lightning struck again.

"While we're having conversations with mechanical germs, mind asking them to explain why I just spent over an hour digging in the dirt if they were going to wake him up the whole time?" Miles had found annoyance a lot easier to process than the other emotions he was trying not to feel.

Charlie provided the answer. "They must have needed time to heal him. They kept us busy so we'd be here when he woke up, so he wouldn't be alone." She looked directly into his eyes when she spoke, still shaken by everything that had happened.

Suddenly, his last actions before walking out of that server room came back to him - that kiss, the silent confession. Aw fuck, he thought to himself.

Mistaking the source of Monroe's sudden display of discomfort, Aaron clapped him on the shoulder. "Hi, welcome to zombiehood. I'm Aaron, your fellow zombie and sponsor."

Remembering now Rachel's earlier reference to Staypuffed's own resurrection, Monroe let a chuckle escape. It was kind of funny and creepy at the same time that this was the one thing he and Aaron had in common. "Hey, don't expect an epic zombie bromance. I hunt for brains alone."

They only stayed long enough for Gene to give Monroe a quick onceover to confirm what everyone already knew: it was like that morning had never happened. Monroe was fine, better than fine. Physically he'd never felt better. When the nanotech went about the business of healing people, it seemed to pull out all the stops. Gene had noticed during the brief exam that the scars on his back had almost completely faded and the melted scar on his forearm from having burned off his tattoo was gone. His field of vision in his left eye had also improved somewhat, although it was not completely restored. But still beggars couldn't be choosers.

Emotionally he was a complete wreck, even more so than usual. As they traveled, he noticed that Connor was avoiding him like he was a leper. He'd overheard Gene discussing with Miles his concerns about the way Connor reacted to his death. Apparently the good doctor felt this warranted careful observation. It was disturbing to die to save someone only to be not dead later and find out they hated you for it.

And the not being dead part was weighing heavily on him now. As he'd laid there bleeding out, he had almost welcomed it. If he was honest with himself, he could admit that he was tired of all of it. How long did a guy have to fight to get a break? But dead he was finished. No more blood and guilt and regret and loneliness. But now here he was; back at square one, except oddly enough Rachel had stopped sending her patented "just wait until I have a chance to kill you" looks.

He had just finished his turn at watch, letting Staypuffed take over for a while. Instead of settling down for the night, he strayed away from the rest of the group, wanting desperately to be alone. He sat up against a tree, knees bent and head bowed when he heard her approach. He instantly knew it was Charlie. It was like her footsteps had their own distinctive sound – Feather light, quick.

Wordlessly, she sat down next to him. After what seemed like forever, she finally spoke. "You okay?"

He let out a halfhearted chuckle. "Just fine, wonderful. I'm overwhelmed with all of my okayness. Couldn't you tell?" When she seemed to flinch at his tone he sighed deeply, knowing he'd just been an ass. "Sorry," he offered sheepishly. "That was shitty. Been a strange day."

Charlie stretched her legs out to get more comfortable. He took it as a silent acceptance of his apology -Otherwise she would have gotten up or said something snarky. They sat there for quite a while in silence. As the time passed, her presence excited and confounded him, but yet somehow made him uncomfortable at the same time. Before this morning, he'd never have considered touching her. She was off limits, simply put. He didn't know if she and Connor still had something going on either. Between that and everything that had happened between him and her family, it just wasn't right. But then he'd been standing there, ready to get turned into Swiss cheese to save her so he figured, what the hell. What was the worst thing that could have happened? After all, he'd be dead long before there'd be any consequences to give in just once to his feelings for her.

As the silence continued, he stretched his legs out and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning up against the tree with his eyes closed. He knew darn good and well she wanted to talk about that kiss and what it meant. What other reason could she possibly have for approaching him? And, he knew that he couldn't just pretend it didn't happen forever. But after the day's events he found that right now when it came to her, he was just plain chicken shit, and not even ashamed to admit it (in his own head, where no one else could hear).

Charlie found herself annoyed that he was pretending to ignore her. "So are we going to talk about it or not?"

He cocked one eye open and looked at her. "You do realize at the time, I wasn't planning on being alive at this point to talk about it?"

Determined, Charlie was having none of it. "Yeah, not gonna fly. You are alive to talk about it, so now talk."

He tried another tactic. "You know, there ought to be a law against being forced to explain anything one says or does in the face of imminent death."

Charlie abruptly got up, giving him the satisfaction of having won for two whole seconds before she sat down literally on top of his legs, forcing him to acknowledge her further. "Well, if you ever actually manage to be ruler of the world again, you can enact any law you want. In the meantime, there isn't one, so spill. Why did you kiss me?"

He considered her for a moment before replying. She looked entirely too determined and entirely too beautiful at that moment for his comfort. "If you really have to ask that question, I wonder if you aren't too young for us to be having this conversation."

She shifted, sliding towards him, now straddling his hips. Her face was only a few inches from his. "Sebastian Monroe, you are a complete idiot."

He laughed at that. "You're just now figuring that out?" Their mouths came together now, picking up where they'd left off that morning. Their tongues tangled as he lifted a hand to gently trace her jawline, sending a shiver through her. Encouraged, he pulled her closer, his hand pressing her hips down as she ground down on him, eliciting a moan from them both. She wrapped her arms around his neck, reveling in the feel of his hardness against her.

He started to pull her jacket off her shoulders when the sound of a stick breaking not too distantly brought them both back down to earth. They both stilled, listening for further movement. Nothing made a further sound but the spell had been broken none the less. "Now is not the time or place for this, Charlie." Monroe said, not even trying to hide the disappointment in his voice as he lifted her off of him.

Slowly he got to his feet before extending a hand to help her up. He cupped her chin to force her to look at him. "I kissed you because I was about to die for you and I just wanted to pretend I mattered before I did." He placed one light peck on her lips before turning away. "Come on. I'll walk you back to camp. It's a long walk to Austin. We need to get some rest while we can."

She followed him back, lost in thought. Right before they were within earshot of camp she placed her arm to still him for a second. "You didn't have to pretend. Okay?" She then walked back over to her bedroll and lay down.

He stood there for a second, mouth open. Shaking his head, he walked over to his own gear and spread out his bedroll. If it was just a little closer to Charlie's than normal, then so be it. He watched her settle down and drift off to sleep before he finally closed his eyes and forced himself to relax.

The journey to Austin over the next few days was fairly uneventful. Connor was still withdrawn, as if he was no longer comfortable amongst any of them, but otherwise tension had been kept to a minimal. They did their best to avoid Patriot patrols, and so far had managed to stay under radar. Monroe and Charlie had not repeated that first night on the road, but the awkwardness they'd felt towards each other since New Vegas seemed to have disappeared for both of them. He knew he mattered somewhat to her, and that was enough for now. After they got to Austin and figured out what they were supposed to do there he knew he'd try to pick up where they'd left off. He was fairly certain she approved of that intention, but he didn't feel the need to bring it up to her before then. After that first night they never seemed to be alone to discuss it anyway.

They were two days outside of Austin and had stopped for the night. Charlie had stepped away for a few minutes of privacy. "So, what's the deal with you and my dad now?" Connor asked from behind her.

Charlie turned and gaped at him. He'd hardly said a word to anyone for days, so he'd taken her by surprise. "Excuse me?"

He took a step towards her. "During the Patriot raid, and later that night. What the hell? So you just basically dumped me for my dad?"

Charlie gaped at him for a second; amazed that he had the gall to even bring it up. "I don't know if you noticed, but we were kind of through for a while before that day. And it wasn't like we were headed for the altar. We had a little fun, that's it. I told you that the first time."

He felt as though she'd slapped him. She'd hated his father. Everyone knew it. And now she was involved with him? "Isn't that a little sick? Going from one Monroe to the next?"

Having had enough she lifted a knee and let him know exactly what she thought of that statement. Satisfied, she walked away as he knelt down to compose himself. Had she not been so irritated, she may have noticed someone had been listening. She wandered around the perimeter of their camp for a few minutes to calm down before heading back. She arrived just in time to see Miles stalk over to Monroe.

He was squatted down; going about setting a fire before the daylight completely deserted them. He looked up at Miles, noticing that he looked pissed about something. "Can I help you?" He said innocently enough as he went back to work on the fire.

Miles glared at him. "I can't believe –" He cut himself off, not able to actually say it out loud. "How could you – Dammit." Miles walked away as quickly as he he'd approached.

Monroe shrugged it off, not quite sure what he'd done in the past few minutes to set Miles off. "Well, okay then," he mumbled as he started feeding the flames. Miles came back a few minutes later. He tossed a sword down next to Monroe.

"Pick it up," he said impatiently. By now everyone else had looked up in confusion, not quite sure what was going on.

Monroe stood up slowly. "Miles, what the hell is the matter with you?"

"Oh don't give me that crap, Bass. Pick up the sword before I get impatient and just run you through."

Monroe sensed that he was serious; he picked up the sword and raised it just in time to block a strike from Miles' sword. "Really Miles? I'm not going to fight you. What is your problem?" 

Miles swung at him several more times. Each time, Monroe was able to block, but he'd fought alongside him for years, and he knew that Miles wasn't just messing around. "Charlie. You idiot. Seriously, you had to do and touch her? What is it with you? Are you capable of not thinking with your dick?" The look on Monroe's face told Miles everything he needed to know. Yep, the bastard had touched her. He struck out two more times. The second blow glanced off of Monroe's sword but only just barely. The tip of Miles' weapon sliced into Monroe's arm fairly deeply.

Both of them stood there for a few seconds and stared. "You fucking cut me? What the hell Miles. You actually fucking cut me!" Monroe had been willing to let Miles blow off a little steam. He got it, somehow he'd found out that there was something there and he was pissed. But he'd actually sliced his arm. Now Monroe was pissed.

He struck back and before anyone knew it, they were both going for blood. The fight had been going on for about fifteen minutes before Charlie decided she had enough. They'd broken a part for a few minutes, so she'd found her opportunity. She stepped in between them, determined to break it up. "Really? I think I can handle my own business without your help, Miles?"

"Get out of the way, Charlie!" Miles growled as he tried to get around her and at his opponent. Charlie's position limited his range of motion, so Miles swung high in attempts to avoid her. Monroe hesitated, fearing hitting Charlie. He sent his own blade to block Miles at the last second, sending Mile's sword sliding down. Both froze when it hit Charlie between her neck and shoulder, the sharp edge cutting into her flesh deeply.

Stunned, Miles just stood there. Monroe grabbed the blade, and pulled it out of her neck; he tossed it aside and caught her as she crumpled to the ground. Laying her gently down, he ignored the pain in his arm as he ripped off his jacket. Yanking his shirt off over his head he balled it up and pressed it to the wound. Gene came running over. Monroe moved away to allow him room to tend to Charlie. Standing, he watched in horror as Gene tried to stop the flow of blood. The wound was too deep; he knew this but refused to accept it. Rachel practically pushed him out of the way to get to Charlie and help her father try to save her life. The dirt soon became soaked with blood.

Not knowing what else to do, Monroe stalked over to Miles and punched him right dead center in the face, breaking his nose and sending blood gushing. Miles went down and Monroe followed, striking again and again. The fucking idiot had started the fight and now Charlie may very well die because of it. As Connor and Aaron drug him off of Miles, it occurred to him that he very well could have beaten him to death had it been allowed to continue.

Gene sat back in amazement. The bleeding had stopped and she was still alive albeit barely. Priscilla just looked around the camp in shock. Miles was crumpled on the ground, groaning. Monroe stood over him panting, his arm red. The wound on his arm looked like it needed tending. The fact that he'd been able to use it at all to pummel Miles was amazing. Rachel and Gene still knelt at Charlie's side, their expressions grim. What on earth had just happened here?

Suddenly the sky above them opened up in a series of flashes and booms. Several strikes hit the ground around their camp, just narrowly missing everyone and scorching the earth where they struck. Monroe looked around watching it. The last time he'd seen something like this was that night of the tower. "What the –" Their entire party dropped to the ground, unconscious as the lightening slowly abated.

Rachel was the first to awaken. She blinked her eyes several times. Her head was pounding like she'd tied one on the night before, but as far as she knew, she'd had nothing. She looked around her; signs of life were slowly coming back to the others. It has been almost dusk when the fight between Monroe and Miles had abruptly ended. The sun was just barely shining to the east now. They'd been out all night? She searched her mind for any recollection of what had happened. The last thing she remembered was tending to Charlie's wound and realizing that it was likely going to be fatal. She scrambled over to her daughter's side. "Charlie?"

Charlie groaned. Rachel slowly pulled Monroe's blood-soaked shirt away from her neck, fully expecting to see the deep cut, only to find smooth and undamaged skin beneath the smears of blood. Charlie's eyes fluttered open. "What…?"

Rachel helped her to sit up. "I don't know," she said as she scanned the rest of the camp. Priscilla was sitting up now. Aaron seemed to have recovered as well. He was standing over at the edge of their camp looking off into the distance. Over the next several minutes the others woke up. Connor and Monroe were already on their feet when Miles sat up, dazed. Monroe walked over to him and offered a hand to pull him up. As he did so, he looked at his extended arm and noticed the deep cut was gone. He narrowed his eyes as he and Miles came face to face. He was pretty sure Mile's face was well battered before he'd lost consciousness. The only evidence that anything had happened at all was the fact that they were both covered in blood.

It took several minutes for everything to come back to them. They looked up at each other guiltily before they remembered what had both began and ended their fight in the first place. They both rushed over to Charlie who was still sitting where she'd fallen. "You're okay," Monroe finally breathed as he sat down next to her, much to Rachel's irritation.

"Yea, she's fine, no thanks to you." Rachel snapped as she tried to put herself between them.

"Mom -" Charlie began only to be cut off.

"Back off, Rachel. It wasn't my sword, and it wasn't a fight I started," he growled as he pulled Charlie's hair back to inspect where the sword had cut her. Seeing Charlie there had terrified him and he kept checking her, as if to reassure himself she was fine.

Aaron walked back to the center of the camp just then. "The nano respectfully request you all stop abusing the gift we've been given and stop trying to kill one another."

"The nano what?" Miles said, still not having come to terms with what had just happened.

"It's healed us all," Charlie murmured to her herself. She started to climb to her feet only to have Monroe jump to his own to help her. She gave him a stern look, and he backed off a little.

"The nano needs us to do something when we get to Austin. It said we are all protected until we are done, whatever that means." Aaron explained.

"It means we can't die," Connor stated flatly.

The all slowly drifted around the camp, packing up to get ready for the day's journey. Monroe was cleaning his sword when Miles walked up to him. "What do you want, Miles," he said with more than a little annoyance.

"I'm sorry about before," Miles finally said, his tone indicating it pained him more than a little to offer the apology.

Monroe stopped what he was doing and looked up at his former friend. The look on the man's face was telling. "She badgered you into this, didn't she?"

"No! Okay, yeah you know she did. I didn't apologize to you for anything when I still liked you. Why else would I do it now?" Miles admitted. Monroe laughed and shook his head as he started to walk away. "You know that since we apparently can't die, if you hurt her I can shoot you over and over again for it!" Miles called after him.

Monroe stopped in his tracks and turned back around. "You know if she gets caught up in your temper tantrums again, I'll shoot you right back!" He called in response as he went to find the object of their conversation. Rachel watched the exchange and sighed as she picked up her pack. It was going to be a long mission.

**MORE A/N: ****I know, I know... I spent an awful lot of time dealing with the first death in this story. Seeing as how the prompt kind of spoils the plot, I decided to deal with the emotional ramifications of dying (or watching someone you know die) only to find out that you're not so much dead anymore and what that would do to someone. I had several different ideas on how to bring up the fact that this interesting new gift was not isolated to one person or incident. In the end I settled for one. I'm not sure how happy I am with the way this played out. Admittedly I was running out of time for the challenge. I suffered a computer setback for almost a week, and it's really hard to write and edit on a smartphone! Anyways, please let me know what you think and any changes you might may. I may tweak this later, may add to it and show what happens when they get to Austin (I kind of stole that from the next episodes description, but I had something in mind that obviously is nano-related only).**


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